


Strawberry Shortchange

by magnusbicon (patrickbrewer)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Co-workers, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 00:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickbrewer/pseuds/magnusbicon
Summary: Within seconds he is up and out of his seat, gripping Magnus’ shoulders, and shoving him behind him in just enough time to take the brunt of a strawberry smoothie being thrown into the booth. Laughter sounds from the minivan stalled just outside the window, and Alec wipes the pink liquid off his eyes just in time to witness scrawny teenage arms pull phones back into minivan windows as they speed off onto the highway.He is silent for a moment, forcing himself to count to ten in his head so he doesn’t involve himself in a deadly high speed chase, then he turns to Magnus, who is watching him like animal control might regard a lion that has just escaped the local zoo and is feeling a great urge to taste human flesh.“Strawberry is my second favorite flavor,” Magnus offers.





	Strawberry Shortchange

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what possessed me to write this fic, but I have no regrets.
> 
> (Coming back in here to say that [Serinity](https://twitter.com/beyondthehunt) made me a wonderful [cover](https://twitter.com/beyondthehunt/status/1094075517513416704) for this fic and y'all should give it some love!)

Alec recognizes a fuckboy when he sees one. 

The unattractive smirk, the greasy hair, the polo shirts and khaki shorts paired with high white socks, the infuriating aura of smugness; it’s a disease, if you ask him. He encounters them all the time, working in the toll booth. The amount of times he’s had money thrown at him through the windows of a soccer mom’s minivan should really earn him a premiere spot in hell at the very least, but then again, his thoughts usually aren’t complimentary as the ungrateful teens screech back off onto the highway, so that probably isn’t helping his case. 

He still remembers being a teenager, and he is positive he never acted so entitled. Sure, his parents treated him like shit when he was younger and he didn’t even have the nerve to glare at them back then, let alone take their cars for granted, but still. He’s fairly sure he loses brain cells every time one of them chooses his lane. 

Today, though, he wishes a few more would drive through, because by some twisted fate that he can’t have done anything to deserve, he’s stranded in a cash only booth with no change left in his register and a very angry ‘Can I speak to your manager?’ looking woman glaring at him beneath the visor of her MAGA hat, and he is two seconds away from absolutely losing his shit. 

“I’m very sorry, ma’am. If you pull over to the building on your right, someone can sort this out for you.” 

She rants on for another few minutes, either oblivious to the line of cars behind her or just uncaring, before she drives off without actually paying the toll or pulling over to fix the situation. Alec leans back against the glass wall with a sigh and flips the switch to close his lane before turning to the next person in line. As it turns out, the rest of the people that remain have exact change. It’s the sensible thing to have prepared– the cost  _is_  only $5– but MAGA hat wearers aren’t known for being particularly intelligent.

Once the coast is clear, Alec peers through the glass of the next booth over and meets Magnus’ eyes, offering him his ‘I hate this job with my entire being’ nose scrunch, and he has just enough time to see his coworker’s shoulders shake with laughter before his view is blocked by a big maroon truck. He slumps into his chair for a moment, then. He has to wait for traffic to die down before he can run over to the tiny office to get more change, anyway, so he might as well check his phone in the meantime. 

But as he scrolls through his unread texts– which mostly consist of Simon and Maia debating whether fries or tater tots are better– he finds that his mind keeps straying back to Magnus. 

Alec started working here only a week after Magnus had joined the staff, and they had become fast friends. It seemed like the reasonable choice at the time; Lorenzo is a complete ass who constantly takes credit for the work everyone else does, Sebastian gives off strong serial killer vibes, Camille has somehow stolen money countless times without getting caught, and Russell is a misogynistic piece of shit (Alec plans on having Izzy come in and teach him a lesson whenever he decides to quit). 

However, it hadn’t taken long for Alec’s interests to stumble over the platonic line. Less than a week, in fact. After five days of working together, Magnus invited Alec out for drinks after a long shift, and they ended up staying out all night just talking. Alec learned then that Magnus was born in Indonesia, and that he used to live in London before a bad breakup lead him to move to New York and start fresh.

“Why I thought being a toll booth worker would fulfill me, I’ll never know,” he had joked, and Alec had immediately recognized his facade. 

He knows all about the forced smiles and enthusiasm, but in that moment he found that having the presence of someone who understood made it all seem a little less fake. It was all unspoken, but something changed between them that night, and they’ve been pretty inseparable ever since. 

Alec scrolls down to his most recent texts from Magnus and smiles, shaking his head in fond amusement. 

_If I break my neck riding this mechanical bull will you nurse me back to health?_

_You can be next in line. ;)_

Magnus had sent it last night after copious amounts of drinking, and Alec had laid in the darkness of his room, smiling wider than he ever let himself in public. 

He tries not to think about what the second text is offering. The last thing he needs is to amp up his sexual frustration even more while he’s at work. Usually just taking one look at Magnus does that. 

“Fantasizing about me, Alexander?” 

Alec nearly falls out of his chair in panic, slamming into various buttons in the booth before regaining control of himself. Magnus stands in the doorway, a hand pressed to his stomach as he laughs at Alec’s reaction, and Alec shoots him a glare that doesn’t have any heart in it whatsoever– unless you factor in the undying love that he has more and more trouble hiding every day. 

“How did you even get in here? And how long have you been standing there?”

Magnus rolls his eyes and takes a step closer, seemingly unaware that his crotch is now in very close proximity to Alec’s face (not that he minds). 

“I portalled, of course,” he deadpans, casually sweeping a stray hair from Alec’s forehead. “And I’ve been here long enough to see you smiling lovingly at your phone for a good 30 seconds. Talking to someone special?”

Alec leans back in his chair, squinting at Magnus for a moment, then shrugs casually. 

“He’s alright, I guess.”

Magnus takes a step closer, a smirk lifting one corner of his lips, and Alec suddenly can’t breathe. The booth is small. Very small. Like so small that if he were to hold out his hand it would very easily land in a place that it is not appropriate to land on at work. 

“What’s he like?” Magnus asks lowly, and Alec has a feeling that if he wasn’t already sitting he would have crumpled to the ground by now. 

“Uh,” he mumbles out, caught off guard by Magnus’ sudden intensity. He looks up into Magnus’ eyes, seconds away from drowning in the amber sincerity that stares back at him, when he registers movement in his peripheral vision. 

Within seconds he is up and out of his seat, gripping Magnus’ shoulders, and shoving him behind him in just enough time to take the brunt of a strawberry smoothie being thrown into the booth. Laughter sounds from the minivan stalled just outside the window, and Alec wipes the pink liquid off his eyes just in time to witness scrawny teenage arms pull phones back into minivan windows as they speed off onto the highway. 

 _Alec recognizes a fuckboy when he sees one_.

He is silent for a moment, forcing himself to count to ten in his head so he doesn’t involve himself in a deadly high speed chase, then he turns to Magnus, who is watching him like animal control might regard a lion that has just escaped the local zoo and is feeling a great urge to taste human flesh. 

“Strawberry is my second favorite flavor,” Magnus offers. 

The words fall out of Alec’s mouth before he can stop them:

“Maybe you should help clean me up, then.” 

It’s one hundred percent suggestive, and though it’s not Alec’s usual style, he finds he has no desire to take it back. 

Magnus lets out a surprised laugh and begins unbuttoning his shirt without hesitation, offering Alec a coy grin as his eyes slide down the newly exposed skin. His necklaces shine against his chest, and Alec has an overwhelming desire to run his fingers over them. Unfortunately, his hands are covered in smoothie. 

“What are you-”

Magnus begins wiping the smoothie off of Alec’s face with the shirt, but Alec jerks his head back before he can continue. 

“This is one of your favorite shirts!”

Magnus gives him a flat look, then snakes his hand around the back of Alec’s neck, knotting his fingers in his hair to keep his head in place. 

"And you are one of my favorite people,” Magnus retorts, wiping the short across Alec’s forehead. “People trump shirts.”

“Please don’t say trump,” Alec groans. “I’ve seen too many MAGA hats today.” 

Magnus grins, throwing the soiled shirt over his shoulder once he is finished and slinging his other arm around Alec’s neck. 

What is breathing? Alec is fairly certain he’s never done such a thing in Magnus’ presence before, or maybe he’s been holding his breath for so long in that the lack of oxygen has erased all of his other memories of breathing. Either way, he’s seconds away from passing out as Magnus’ eyes meet his own once more, much closer than they’ve ever been before.

“I missed a spot,” Magnus says, his gaze dropping to Alec’s lips.

“Are you really making up an excuse to kiss me right now?” Alec asks, breathless as his hands move to clutch Magnus’ hips. 

Magnus pauses, hesitant mirth shining in his eyes as they flit back up to meet Alec’s. “Do I need one?” 

“No.”

“Hm, well I really did purposely leave some on your lips for this reason. Would you like some assistance with that?” 

Alec forces down the smile that wants to spread across his face and narrows his eyes in a faux thinking expression, earning a fake offended huff from Magnus. 

“I suppose everyone needs a helping hand every now and then,” he finally says, then immediately freezes when he realizes the innuendo buried in there. “I mean-”

“Alexander,” Magnus interrupts, “I’ll lend you a hand anytime.”

As their lips meet, it registers somewhere in the back of Alec’s mind that one day they’re going to have a lot of trouble telling their children about how exactly they got together. 

He can’t wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know which you think are better: fries or tater tots


End file.
